


Red Threads

by kunstvogel



Series: Winnix Vignettes [8]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Canon Era, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, These are tiny drabbles, You just gotta read em man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2019-02-14 14:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunstvogel/pseuds/kunstvogel
Summary: Winnix drabbles from a fic meme.





	Red Threads

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt fills for whip-pan, jouissant, semperama, and mols.

**bauble** for whip-pan

Dick doesn’t care to collect things or give extravagant gifts. He’s always been thrifty like that, spending his money only on the bare minimum and putting the rest in savings. He tells Lew it’s for emergencies, for retirement, for buying them a house with a farm in a couple years, after they graduate and pay off their loans.

Still, when Lew has to spend the night in a hospital after an appendectomy, he finds a vase of flowers and a stuffed dog at his bedside.

 

 **soak** for jouissant

In Germany there’s no Vat 69 to be found. Lew breaks into a liquor store in the pouring rain and comes up empty-handed. He sulks outside for a while until the shivers start, and then he finds the house Dick’s billetted in. If they weren’t in the middle of a war he’d feel bad for ruining the nice carpet with his wet boots, but as it is he couldn’t care less. He trudges up the stairs to find Dick hunched over his typewriter as always.

“Footlocker’s empty,” Dick says without looking up.

“I know,” says Lew, shivering. In the silence he can hear it again- _crack_ as the plane is hit _,_ the _snap_ of his parachute opening, the _boom_ that followed hardly seconds later. He watched as the plane was enveloped in flames, a full stick still inside.

“Lew, you’re getting the floor wet,” Dick says. He sounds like he’s not sure if he should be angry or concerned. Lew can’t move, can’t speak around the lump in his throat. He can feel his uniform sticking to his skin. Dick gets to his feet, steering him into the bathroom and peeling off his jacket, silent.

“I know,” Lew croaks brokenly.

 

 **pet** for semperama

In their first apartment they aren’t allowed to have a dog or cat. Lew sulks about it for a week, and then on a Tuesday Dick comes home with a tiny blue parakeet.

“Peter said a bird is okay,” Dick says, and that settled it.

Lew never much liked birds. After all, the only birds he’d seen growing up in New York City were pigeons and seagulls, and neither were known to be friendly. Dick, of course, takes care of the little guy diligently as Lew adjusts. He’s quiet for the first two days, then he starts to chirp and buzz and make a whole lot more noise than Lew expected such a small creature could.

“What do you wanna name him?” Dick asks after Lew coaxes him up onto his shoulder for the first time.

“How about Ollie?”

“Sure,” Dick says, smiling. “Ollie it is."

 

 **piercing cold** for mols

Lew shivers, blinking awake. It’s dark, still night outside the tent they sleep in. The fire has long since burnt out and he can hear an owl hooting in the distance. Lew strains to see in the dark and flips over, reaches out to feel for Dick beside him. He finds his hip and scoots closer, snuggling up against his back.

He realizes now how cold he really is; Dick’s skin burns against his own and his fingers and toes are numb despite the fleece blankets over them and the heavy pajamas he wears. Lew presses himself bodily against Dick, whimpering despite himself.

“Lew?” Dick mumbles, shifting against him. “Why’re you up?”

“’M cold,” says Lew. He lets Dick turn over to face him before curling up closer again, tucking his face into Dick’s chest. Dick rubs his back and kisses his crown, letting Lew soak up his warmth.

After a while, Lew slips back into sleep, feeling warmer and safer in Dick’s arms than he has ever felt before.

 

**candles**

In France, Dick presses Lew against cotton sheets and makes love to him, the windows thrown open. Lew remembers their first time, a little over twelve years ago now, and smiles. He nuzzles into the junction between Dick’s neck and shoulder, breathing in the musky scent of his husband.

“Happy tenth anniversary to us,” Dick murmurs, kissing his crown. After they’ve cooled off, Dick herds Lew into the bathroom, lights the candles, and runs a bath. They slip into the tub together, Lew settled in Dick’s lap. He drops his head against Dick’s shoulder and soaks up the feeling of being wrapped up in his lover’s arms.

 

**bored**

Lewis Nixon was bored.

Later in his life he would reflect upon his experiences and see that it was this boredom which led him to make the choice that would shape the remainder of his life. But it was that January of 1941 that he came to recognize his own boredom. For years he’d been stagnant- an empty house in Nixon, New Jersey and a job that required no more from him than his presence and the occasional signature, a girlfriend he could mess around with but had no intention of committing to long-term, and members of New York’s elite with whom he could not relate on an intimate level.

So when Pearl Harbor was bombed, rather than dodge the draft a few months down the road he showed up and enlisted in the U.S. Army. He figured the worst that could happen was he’d die some horrific death and be shipped home in a pine box, and that would be that.

His decision was met with confusion and resignation from his family and friends. Lew could tell his father was exasperated- if Lewis died, who would take over the nitration plant? - but he didn’t care.

It felt good to make a decision of his own for once.


End file.
